


Pride Ain't A Sunday Picnic

by flawedamythyst



Series: Pride [2]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Alcohol, Asgardian Liquor (Marvel), Clint Loves Rainbows, Gay Pride, M/M, PDA, Pride Parades, drunk boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22669465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: Bucky's second Pride parade goes even better than his first one, for both him and Clint.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Series: Pride [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630810
Comments: 56
Kudos: 365
Collections: MHEA Harlequin Hoopla Prompt Challenge 2020, Winterhawk Bingo





	Pride Ain't A Sunday Picnic

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'Asgardian Booze' square on my Winterhawk Bingo and the 'First Anniversary' Harlequin Hoola prompt.
> 
> Huge love for all the help and cheerleading from Nny and CB.

Clint had spent months trying to talk Bucky into a more exciting outfit, ever since the letter from the New York Pride Committee had arrived. 

"If you're a Grand Marshal, you have to look the part," he’d tried, in vain.

"I'm willing to bet you'll be dressed enough for both of us," Bucky had said and yeah, okay, Clint had maybe already ordered a custom set of rainbow bracers for the occasion, but that wasn't the point.

"I'm not going to be leading the parade," he’d pointed out. "They asked you."

It had been a really nice letter as well, talking about the impact that Bucky's interview had had, about how he represented the changes that the last few decades had brought, about how they wanted to give him the opportunity to be open that had been denied to him in the forties. Nowhere had it mentioned just how much Bucky's coming out, and Steve's loudly vocal support for him, had upset the right wing, or how much the committee wanted to rub it in their faces, but Clint felt it had been implied in at least a couple of paragraphs. 

"You’ll be there too. They said I could have my current partner with me," Bucky had said. "Who else is that going to be but you?"

Clint had been surprised into silence. For all that Bucky had embraced being out, wearing the rainbow wristband that Clint had given him at any public relations thing that he got dragged to, he and Clint hadn't actually gone public with their relationship. 

“You don’t have to-” he’d started, and Bucky had rolled his eyes without letting him finish, pulling him into his arms and kissing him. “It’s a party,” he’d said. “We’re celebrating being loud and proud about who we are, and who I am is the guy who is head over heels for you, doll.”

Except Bucky being loud and proud about who he was apparently didn't translate into dressing up for it, and Clint still didn't really get that all. Pride should be a rainbow event in every way possible, after all.

“I’ve got a spare feather boa,” he tried when they were getting ready to leave the Tower on the morning of the Parade.

"I've got my bracelet,” said Bucky, holding up his wrist.

Clint just sighed. "I guess at least you're not wearing black," he said. Bucky had put on one of his navy shirts and rolled up the sleeves in deference to the heat, which was a good look for him that Clint would normally be enjoying, but it was just kinda dull for a Pride parade.

****

The Pride committee had found a 1940s Rolls Royce convertible for Bucky to ride in, then draped it with excessive amounts of rainbow ribbon. It was fantastic, not least because the hood was long and level enough for Clint to show off some circus moves, once they got started.

Of course, before that happened, there was nearly an hour of sitting around waiting for the frazzled organisers to get everyone where they should be so they could start the parade on time. While they were waiting,Tony came over, wearing a tie shaded in the bi colours of blue, purple and pink and a baseball hat that declared, 'I am Biron Man'.

"Okay, as proud as I am with how far you've come since last year, this is just sad," he said, waving a hand at Bucky's outfit. "Speaking as an ex-Grand Marshal, you're kinda missing the point."

"That's what I told him," said Clint.

"Okay, smartass, what did you wear for it, then?" asked Bucky. 

Tony's face lit up. "Let me show you, padawan," he said, and pulled out his phone.

Clint had been around the year Tony had been Grand Marshal, but he still watched the video of him swooping along at the head of the parade in the Iron Man suit he'd repainted blue, purple and pink for the occasion, and the moment he'd let off the rainbow coloured sparklers from it.

"Huh," said Bucky. "They just told me I'd need to smile and wave and make a speech, not cause a major fire hazard."

Tony rolled his eyes as he tucked his phone away. "You're meant to stand out, not dress like it's any other day. Luckily for you, though, I have bought you a hat."

He pulled a ball cap out of his pocket and handed it to Bucky. It said, 'In dog years, I'm gay.'

Bucky inspected it for a moment, then rolled his eyes and put it on. "Happy?" he asked. "You know, I kinda figured Clint had enough going on for the both of us."

They both turned to look at Clint, who wiggled his eyebrows at them. He looked fantastic and he knew it. He'd teamed his purple booty shorts with a sleeveless rainbow-striped mesh shirt, cropped at the bottom of his ribcage to make sure his abs were on display. They were good abs, after all, and while his shoulders and biceps got an airing every time he put his combat suit on, his abs were usually hidden away. They deserved their time in the sun.

"If you weren't so hot, you'd look like an idiot," Bucky told him.

"Good thing I'm hot then," said Clint, because he worked hard for these muscles, he wasn't going to be shy about them. "Besides, Tony's right. If we're leading this parade, at least one of us needs to look gay."

Bucky snorted. "If anyone doubts me, I'll just stick my tongue down your throat."

"I am more than okay with that," Clint assured him. "In fact…"

He pulled Bucky in for a kiss, because it would be ages before the parade set off and they might as well make their own fun.

There were a few cheers from nearby and a sigh from Tony, but with Bucky clinging on to Clint’s waist and kissing him like there was nothing else he wanted to do, even surrounded by all the noise and colour of a Pride parade trying to get organised, Clint couldn't care about any of that.

"Don't need a fancy outfit when I can just do that," said Bucky quietly against Clint's lips when he pulled back, and Clint couldn't keep in a smile of satisfaction that this guy was his, and that he was happy to put their relationship on display like this.

It wasn't that Clint had wanted them to be splashed all over the papers like Tony and Pepper, or that he really thought Bucky's reticence had anything to do with how he felt about Clint because he was pretty clear about his feelings when they were behind closed doors, but Clint had still felt a little pinprick of disappointment every time he'd want to reach for Bucky's hand in public and couldn't. Knowing he wouldn't have to worry about that again, and was going to be riding in a swanky car at the head of a parade to celebrate people like them so everyone could see just how taken Bucky was, was making this feel like his best Pride ever.

Bucky pulled away and just smiled at him, and for a moment it was all Clint could do to smile back, probably looking hopelessly dopey.

"You're adorable, really," said Tony dryly, "but that doesn't change that this is a party you're not dressed for."

"Clothes aren't what make a party," said Bucky. "Besides, I got something better than a rainbow cowboy hat or whatever."

"Nothing is better than a rainbow cowboy hat," put in Clint, because it needed saying. 

“You can take the boy out of the Midwest…” muttered Tony.

Bucky fished a flask out of his pocket. "I got this," he said. "Thor gave it to me and told me not to let anyone unenhanced have any, because 'The ale of the Gods is not for mortal man’.”

"Oh wow," said Clint, reverently. 

"Thor gave you his Asgardian firewater?" asked Tony, his eyes lighting up because he probably remembered the evening they'd persuaded Steve to give it a try as fondly as Clint did. "Okay, I take it all back, you've got a party right there."

"This is going to be the best Pride ever," said Clint happily as Bucky unscrewed the flask and took a cautious sip.

"I hope so," said Bucky, then took a longer drink. "This stuff is pretty good, actually."

"Yeah, that's what Steve said, before he swore never to touch it again," said Tony.

Bucky shrugged. "Stevie's a stick-in-the-mud. Never did like getting drunk. Me, on the hand," he took another swig, "I always kinda liked it."

"I love you," Clint told him, very seriously.

When the parade finally started, and after the driver had got over his respect for the Avengers enough to threaten to leave Clint on the side of the road if he didn't stop turning handstands on the hood of the car, Clint settled in beside Bucky as the gathered crowds cheered and waved.

Bucky waved back, grinning at everyone, but Clint could see the tension around his eyes, even with his occasional swig from his flask.

The previous night, Bucky had waited until the lights were out before saying quietly into the dark, "Why are all those people gonna want to see a killer at the front of their celebration of love?"

"Cos you're awesome," Clint had said then. Now, he took Bucky's hand and held on as they slowly headed down the streets, streamers and balloons raining down on them.

"I LOVE YOU," shrieked a girl wrapped in a trans flag, and threw something at them that Clint only really registered as an unknown projectile before his hand had darted out to catch it before it hit Bucky, his adrenalin surging.

It was a set of beads in rainbow colours. Clint let out a breath, wondering if maybe they should have mentioned to the organisers that throwing things at combat veterans wasn't the best idea.

Bucky picked the beads out of Clint's hand and considered them for a moment, then put them over his head and waved a thanks to the girl. She shrieked with delight and collapsed back against her friends.

"Hey, why didn't I get beads?" complained Clint.

"Don't you think you've got enough decoration?" asked Bucky, gesturing at the rainbow bracers on Clint's arms.

"Never," said Clint, and stood up to flex at some guys chucking some small items into the crowd, in the hope of picking up some bling.

They threw one right at him, but it turned out to be a pack with a condom and a single sachet of lube, which wasn't quite what he'd been going for but would probably come in useful later.

Bucky took another sip from his flask and aimed a wide, flushed grin at him. "This is kinda fun," he said, waving at a group of men dressed in leather harnesses. At least one of them wolf whistled in return.

Clint nudged their shoulders together. "Are you getting drunk?"

Bucky considered that. "I believe I am," he said, and his grin grew wider. "It's been long enough. Last time was… god, Dum Dum found a couple of ancient bottles of brandy in a bombed farmhouse and we all got so drunk that we had to delay our return to camp a day so we could recover. Steve was furious, but he lied to Phillips without even needing to be asked." He started to snigger and Clint watched, fascinated by this side of him he'd never seen before. 

“Man, that punk,” he continued, but didn’t complete the thought because someone in the crowd yelled, “I love you, Hawkeye!” and Bucky got distracted by standing up and yelling back.

“Hands off, he’s mine! I saw him first!” 

“Aw, babe,” said Clint, standing up and grabbing Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky turned into his grip, took Clint’s face in both hands and started kissing him like he was thinking about using the lube and condom Clint had snagged. 

Clint fucking loved it. He really had to make sure he got Thor to give Bucky enough Asgardian booze for this to happen again.

The whole crowd cheered and clapped, and Clint couldn’t keep in a wild grin around at them all when Bucky finally let him go, because his boyfriend was the best and now everyone was getting to see it.

Bucky turned away to wave at another section of the crowd, who were filling up tables and chairs outside a cafe, and Clint took a chance to look around and just smile to himself at getting to be here.

There was a band in front of them, playing a whole host of gay anthems that the crowd were happy to sing along to. The group marching behind the Rolls were a bunch of veterans, because the Pride committee had clearly decided to follow a theme. They included an older guy in a mobility scooter and a leather waistcoat who had filled the basket of his scooter with multi-coloured lei and was tossing them to the crowd at random intervals. He’d come up close behind the car while Bucky and Clint had been kissing, and Clint climbed out onto the trunk of the car, crawling back to where he could reach him.

“Hey, can I have a lei?” he asked, and gestured at Bucky. “My boyfriend’s a bit underdressed still.”

The guy snorted. “You’re not kidding, son,” he said, and threw Clint a handful. “Next time, tell him this ain’t a Sunday picnic, yeah?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “I tried, trust me,” he said, then moved back to where Bucky was cheerfully waving at the packed throngs lining the streets, far more easy and relaxed than Clint had ever seen him at the centre of a crowd.

"Hey, got you a present," he said, pulling a lei out of the bundle. Each of the cheap fabric flowers was a different colour and some of them were encrusted with glitter.

Bucky eyed it with suspicion. "Best boyfriend ever," he said sarcastically, and Clint thought he was going to have to break out the puppy eyes to get him to wear it, but he just dipped his head and allowed Clint to drop it around his neck.

Clint put on the other lei in the bundle he'd been given because he wasn't going to let Bucky get all the swag and besides, it was the closest to a couple outfit that he was ever likely to get. The last thing in the bundle the guy had given him was a bracelet of the same flowers.

He took Bucky's left arm and pushed the bracelet on, while Bucky just let him without offering more than a sigh. "It's gonna get stuck in the plates," he tried.

Clint snorted. "You keep hair bands on here, it's fine. Stop fussing."

He kept hold of Bucky's hand once he was done, enjoying getting to be hand-in-hand with his boyfriend while waving at the crowds, feeling the exhilaration of putting this out there and getting cheers in response. 

Bucky didn't let go, even when he pulled the flask back out. "It tastes pretty good," he said after a swig. "Bet it'd taste even better off your abs, though."

Clint choked and stared at him, and Bucky just gave him a sly wink back.

Well, okay then. Apparently the stuff was having more than a little impact. Clint could go with that, except…

“How come I don’t have anything to drink?” he asked, more to himself than anything else. “How did I plan so badly that I’m still sober halfway through Pride?”

Bucky shook his head. “You young folks. You lack all sense of occasion,” he said, and his accent was beginning to drag out into a Brooklyn drawl, which was something Clint couldn’t think about right now, not when everyone was staring at him and his shorts were so tight.

Bucky turned to the crowd and threw his arms wide. “Hey!” he called to the half-naked gang of guys they were passing, most of whom had rainbows painted on their chests. “Any of you fine folks got any booze you could spare for my fella?”

“FUCK YEAH,” shouted one of them, a skinny boy who didn’t look old enough to be drinking, although Clint had a feeling that thought had just aged him ten years. The boy hopped up onto the railing lining the route, then glanced at the nearest steward, who looked so completely done with everything. She just waved the boy over and he vaulted the railing then ran over to the Rolls.

“Here you go, man!” he said, holding out a plastic water bottle that looked battered enough to have clearly been refilled at home and brought out in a bag. 

“Thanks,” said Clint, taking it with a grin because there was no way it was going to be anything less than unbelievably strong, whatever it was, and that was exactly what he needed to keep up with Bucky.

“I fucking love you,” said the boy. “Wow! Hawkeye, drinking my booze!” Clint snorted and resisted the urge to ruffle his hair for being adorable. “Oh, oh, hey! Don’t ask, you don’t get right? Any chance of a kiss in return?”

“No,” growled Bucky. “He’s mine.” Clint rolled his eyes and jabbed him in his ribs, and Bucky turned to him with a frown that wavered into something more uncertain. “Unless you wanted to,” he said. “Last year you were kissing all kinds of guys. If you wanted to do that again...”

He trailed off rather than completing the sentence, and he looked as if just the idea was causing him immense pain, so Clint took pity on him. “Yeah,” agreed Clint, “and then I kissed you, and the rest don’t matter any more.”

All trace of Bucky’s frown cleared off his face as he beamed at Clint.

“Aw!” said the boy, who was pacing along with the car. “Can I see that, then? You guys kissing? Like, properly kissing, not just little things for the cameras or whatever?”

That one, Clint could definitely do. He dropped the bottle on the seat, because he was going to need both arms for this, and pulled Bucky into an embrace, kissing him with all his excited happiness at being out with him like this, shouting to the world about their love. Bucky clung on and kissed him back just as hard, even when Clint took advantage of his height to bend him back like in an old Hollywood movie.

Bucky retaliated by shoving one of his hands as far down Clint’s shorts as he could to grab his ass and yeah, maybe Clint shouldn’t play PDA chicken with the drunk guy but, fuck it, it wasn’t like he had any dignity to worry about losing.

When they finally pulled out of the kiss, the boy had a look on his face like he’d seen heaven. “Oh wow,” he said. “Oh, fuck, that was…”

“Happy Pride!” said Clint, waving at him. 

“Happy Pride!” the kid shouted back, then darted back down to where he’d left his friends.

The bottle turned out to contain vodka-Sprite, although the Sprite had definitely been an afterthought. Clint drank it quicker than he really should have, grinning at the crowds cheering for him and his boyfriend, and allowed himself a couple of moments to consider how much this whole thing would have pissed off his dad, if he’d managed to stay alive long enough to find out about it. Clint wasn’t sure if he’d have been more pissed about the boyfriend thing or that Clint was drinking ‘a girl’s drink’, but either way he’d have been pissed, which had to mean Clint was making the best life choices right now.

Bucky kept taking pulls from his flask, getting steadily tipsier until he was pink-cheeked, grinning at everyone, and apparently completely unable to let go of Clint, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist, or stroking over his shoulder, or teasing up under his mesh shirt even while waving at the crowds. Clint definitely wasn’t complaining.

That said, Bucky probably did need to keep some grip on his faculties. “Don’t forget you’ve still got the speech,” Clint said as Bucky took another swig.

Bucky winced. “Why d’ya think I’ve got this stuff to start with? Fucking hate makin’ speeches.”

“I didn’t realise you were that worried about it,” said Clint, running a hand over Bucky’s back in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture, and then slipped it up under his shirt because, fuck it, if Bucky was allowed to be handsy, so was Clint. “You’re gonna be great, you know, and you don’t have to say much. You could probably just yell, ‘Happy Pride’, and everyone would be happy. Or Tony’ll still be around somewhere, I bet he could put on a floorshow with only half an hour’s notice, you can just stand to the side and wave while he goes all Stark-extra.”

Bucky shook his head. “No, I got stuff to say,” he said, and his hand went to pat his pocket, where Clint could hear the crinkle of paper. “Just, gonna be easier to say it with all these folks staring at me if I’m a bit merry, y’know?”

Clint laughed. “Oh, my dude, you left merry behind a while back.”

Bucky blinked at him, then frowned down at the flask. “Guess I’m just not used to it anymore,” he said.

He did tuck the flask away and not get it out again after that, which was kinda sad but probably a good idea.

By the time they’d weaved their way along the whole Pride route, travelling slow enough not to catch up with the band in front, who were on their fifth repeat of _Young Hearts, Run Free_ and seriously starting to flag, Bucky was halfway back to sober, although his hand was still resting on Clint’s ass. Clint was more than okay with that.

A stressed-looking organiser took them off to a tent behind the main stage then abandoned them.

“That was fun,” said Clint, flopping down into a chair. “Fucking exhausting though, and we weren’t even actually marching, fuck knows how the guys dancing do it.”

Bucky put a hand on Clint’s cheek and tilted his face up towards him. “The sun’s made you go pink,” he said. “It’s cute.” He moved forward to straddle Clint’s legs and dropped down into his lap without warning, all the weight of his super-soldier muscles landing solidly on Clint’s thighs.

“Jesus,” gasped Clint, but didn’t get any further because Bucky started kissing him, hot and heavy and completely ignoring the rest of the tent, which was slowly filling up with other VIPs.

“I hope you get freckles,” Bucky murmured against Clint’s lips and, fuck it, it wasn’t as if the VIPs hadn’t known exactly what kind of shit happened at Pride. Besides, Bucky wasn't freaking out about his speech as long as he was kissing Clint, right? Clint put his arms around Bucky and pulled him in for another kiss.

****

Bucky’s nerves came back when the organisers got him and Clint up on the stage. He looked calm enough as he waved at the cheering crowd, but Clint was holding his hand and could feel his fingers being slowly crushed.

“You’re gonna be great,” he said, under the noise of the announcer detailing Bucky’s history, skipping over the dark parts as much as possible. “You’re even kinda dressed for it now,” he added, tugging on the beads around Bucky’s neck. Between those, the lei, and the hat Tony had given him, he almost looked like he’d meant to go to Pride and hadn’t just wandered in by accident. “Besides, you know I’m gonna love whatever you say, and fuck the rest of these guys, seriously.”

“God, I hope you do love it,” said Bucky tensely, but Clint didn’t have a chance to find out what that meant because the announcer had reached the end and was gesturing back to Bucky.

He gave Clint’s hand one last squeeze, then stepped forward to the mic, waving at the crowd for a moment before pulling his notes out.

“Hey guys!” he said. “Happy Pride!”

That got him a chorus of shouts back. Clint couldn’t see Bucky’s face from his position at the back of the stage, so he just kept his own grin pinned on and hoped like hell that this went well.

Bucky glanced down at his notes, and then back at the crowd. “This isn’t usually my kinda thing, talking in front of people. Truth be told, I've been kinda nervous about it. Usually I just let Stevie make the big speeches while I stand behind him and glare at anyone who looks like they're gonna cause a problem.”

He glanced back at Clint, and Clint was relieved to see he was smiling. “Guess I’ve got Hawkeye in that role today.”

Clint crossed his arms and did his best impression of Bucky’s Winter Soldier glare, which earned him a few laughs.

“That wasn't gonna really work for me today, though,” carried on Bucky. “Me and Steve, we've mostly got the same kinda unique perspective on how the world works now compared to when we were kids, but this part, this is just me. I'm the one comparing living the life of secrets that I was expecting with all this.”

He gestured at the crowd and the rainbow flags hanging off everything that would hold them, and earned himself another cheer. Clint thought it was going pretty well, but he could see Bucky’s shoulders were still tense, and seemed to be hitching higher rather than relaxing as the speech went on.

“Because I don't much like speaking about myself and putting this shit out in public where it can be pounced on and torn apart, I wasn’t planning on ever saying anything about me liking fellas,” carried on Bucky, “but last year I was reminded that even now, not everyone is able to come out to a parade. Some folks are still living like I did when I was young, surrounded by people who are telling them that who they are is wrong. And that ain't right, no one should be able to tell you who you are.”

That one got him another cheer and made Clint have to clench his hands into fists to stop himself going over to give Bucky a hug and remind him that he wasn’t ever going to be controlled like that again.

“But that's not something we can change overnight, all we can do is chip away at it by being honest and unashamed,” carried on Bucky. “So last year, I stood up and told my truth about who I am and, well, that ended me up here, trying to work out what a hundred-year-old guy could find to say that's relevant to most of you folks.”

He glanced back at Clint, and all his easy smiles had fallen off his face, which made no damn sense when the crowd were eating this up and it was nearly over with anyway.

“I figured maybe I'd try just telling some more of who I am,” said Bucky, turning back to the crowd. “I'm a guy who likes guys-” he had to pause when that drew the largest cheer yet, along with some wolf whistles, “and I'm a guy who's stupid in love with that guy-”

He glanced back and gestured at Clint, who suddenly found the whole crowd staring at him, so he pointed fingerguns at Bucky and grinned at everyone watching him.

“Although fuck knows why, fingerguns, really?” Bucky asked him, rolling his eyes, then held out his arm to Clint. “Come up here you idiot.”

Clint hadn’t really factored being part of this but he wasn’t about to leave Bucky hanging, so he went to join him, sliding an arm around his waist and pecking a kiss on his cheek that earned them another cheer.

Bucky grinned at him. “Yeah, okay, so I'm stupid in love with this guy,” he said into the mic, “and I want to spend my life with him. And that's something I'm able to declare loud and proud these days instead of hiding behind closed doors, and that's worth celebrating. So, how about it, Clint? Want to get married?” 

He turned towards Clint and suddenly there was a ring box in his hand and holy fuck, Clint had not expected this at all. He stared at the ring for a shocked moment, then up at Bucky’s face, which was tense again and, shit, that was why he’d been so panicked about this, not the public speaking.

The crowd were going absolutely nuts, but Clint only heard it as if it were coming through a thick wall, or he’d forgotten to put his aids in that morning. “Holy fuck, Bucky,” he said.

Bucky raised his eyebrows and shook the ring towards him. “C’mon, don’t leave me hanging.”

Clint blinked, and then realised that he was leaving an unacceptably long pause. “Of course I’ll fucking marry you, idiot,” he said, and reached out for the ring, then bypassed it in favour of grabbing Bucky instead, and hauling him in for a kiss.

****

Afterwards, after Bucky had pushed the ring on Clint’s finger to screams from the crowd and they’d escaped the stage rather than hang around to be polite about listening to the other speeches, Tony found them.

“What the hell?” he said. “I thought I was meant to be the diva putting his whole life on public show?”

Bucky grinned at him. He had Clint pulled in his lap, one hand teasing along the waistband of his shorts. They’d found a quiet part of the tent where Clint could kiss Bucky until he’d been kinda tempted to pull out the lube and condom pack he’d got earlier and just hope no one walked in on them, but nowhere stayed quiet for long at Pride. Instead, he’d gone to the bar and got himself a celebratory drink while Bucky had gone back to his flask, and maybe they were both more than a little merry right now, but they were fucking engaged, who could blame them?

Fuck, he was engaged. How the hell had he managed that?

Bucky shrugged. “Love is love,” he said. “Kinda felt like a fuck you to my fella back then, the one who told me we had to treat marriage like a, you know.” He waved the hand holding the flask vaguely in the air. “A charade. Fuck that. I’m not hiding anything, and I’m gonna marry the guy I love, not some poor dame who’s gonna spend her life wondering why things don’t seem quite right.” He gave Clint’s waist a squeeze, and Clint curled over to kiss him again.

“Okay, that’s fair,” said Tony. “Just, you know Cap’s gonna be pissed he missed this, right? He’s gonna want to tear up and get all manly and emotional about how far you’ve come and all that.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Fucking Stevie,” he muttered. “He should go get his own fiancée.” He beamed at Clint. “Fiancé!”

“That’s me,” agreed Clint, and then they were kissing again.

He heard Tony letting out a long sigh. “Man, I wish Steve were here to have to deal with this,” he said, then disappeared somewhere that didn’t matter, because it wasn’t where Bucky was and Clint was pretty happy to spend at least the next ten hours just kissing Bucky.

Fuck, he loved Pride.


End file.
